


Shiver, Shiver

by AzzleDazzle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Desperation, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9200165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzzleDazzle/pseuds/AzzleDazzle
Summary: There's a time and a place for everything and despite Yuuri's efforts, Viktor is waiting for it.





	1. When You Are Close to Me (I Shiver)

Viktor watches Yuuri glide on the ice, as graceful as any person that Viktor has seen in all of his years of competing. It’s hardly fair, the fluidity of his body, so in tune with the music that it’s easy to believe that they’re one. The music is Yuuri; Yuuri is the music.

Viktor also is not immune to the looks that Yuuri keeps sliding his way. They’re not subtle and Viktor doesn’t think they’re supposed to be. The sensual performance of Eros comes out more when they’re alone, Viktor has noticed. In a crowd, it’s muted, the gleam of Yuuri dulled by the shouting of the people, the pressure of the judges. Here, it’s them, the pull they have towards each other, drawing them in, faster and faster, until Viktor is dizzy with it, with this man who has captivated him so thoroughly. Oh, yes, Viktor knows exactly what those looks are. They’ve increased in frequency since the Cup of China, since the kiss.

The music ends and Viktor pushes off the barrier of the rink, skating towards Yuuri. “Your free leg is better, but you need to gain more momentum for the last quad,” he tells him. “But I can see more improvement in your step sequences.” 

Yuuri’s face, already red from exertion, flushes deeper at the praise. “I-Thank you, Viktor.”

Viktor can think of many different ways he’d like to see Yuuri’s face red, to hear Yuuri breathlessly say his name, and none of them have anything to do with skating. “Of course, Yuuri.” He pushes himself closer, almost touching Yuuri. “Would you like to run through it again?”

Yuuri looks up through his eyelashes and sweat soaked hair and Viktor is pretty sure his heart is going to pound out of his chest. “If you would like, we can-”

Before he can go any further (and test Viktor’s already too thin resolve), Viktor presses a finger to his lips. “Yuuri.”

And just like that, his face shuts down, ears red with embarrassment, face full of shame. “I’m sorry, I shou-”

He can’t help it, knows that he shouldn’t, but he does it anyway. Cups Yuuri’s face with his gloved hand and tilts it up so that Yuuri is forced to look at him. “Yuuri, you’re mistaken.” Viktor leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Yuuri’s plush lips. And then another, Yuuri’s mouth opening eagerly and this is a mistake, not now, but Viktor can’t help but deepen the kiss, dipping his tongue in to taste. Yuuri lets out a little sigh, breath hot against Viktor’s lips. His fingers clutch at Viktor’s workout shirt, tangling in the fabric as they press closer because Viktor can’t help himself, doesn’t want to stop himself from giving Yuuri what he wants, not when Viktor wants it just as badly.

It takes some effort to pull back, to stop pressing kisses over Yuuri’s lips, but he makes himself do it anyway. “You’re mistaken,” he breathes in the small space between their lips. “It’s not ‘no’ that I’m telling you, it’s ‘not right now.’” Viktor pulls Yuuri in even closer, the sound of their skates sliding on ice loud in the silence of the rink. His lips trail to Yuuri’s ear.

“It’s ‘not right now’ because when I take you, I want it to be slow. I want to take you apart so thoroughly that you forget your own name and put you back together so that my name is the only one you remember. I want you for more than just an hour between practices; when I take you, it will be days before we leave the bed.” He doesn’t stop himself from nipping gently on the lobe of Yuuri’s ear when he pauses. “After the Grand Prix Final, I will have you all to myself, and not a moment before then. No matter what happens, I promise you that.”

He slides back, taking Yuuri’s hands in his. “I think we can take a break now,” he says brightly to Yuuri’s stunned face. He pulls him along, partially to hide his smirk, partially so that he won’t ravage that sweet, sweet mouth again.

Because that is one promise that Viktor Nikiforov won’t forget and one that he fully intends to keep.


	2. Shall We Get Intimate Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor makes good on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, check out the updated tags before you read!

The door to the flat is barely shut before Yuuri is pressing Viktor against it, lips smashed oddly together in his desperation. Viktor doesn’t blame him, even as he cups his face with both hands and adjusts the angle, making it smoother and he has to fight down a smirk when Yuuri lets out a whimper.

He had almost given in after their engagement in Barcelona, when everything was so golden and happy and pretty much everything Viktor had been looking for. Almost. But he hadn’t been lying to Yuuri, hadn’t wanted to distract him from the finals and so they waited. Viktor wonders if it might have been a factor in Yuuri’s sudden wish to retire, thinking that Viktor doesn’t want him, like Viktor doesn’t _burn_ at the very thought of Yuuri. It’s all settled now, of course, with at least one more year promised out of his fiance and a triumphant return planned for him. Of course, that meant moving back to St. Petersburg and Yuuri had been more than willing to come along.

But he also had a promise to keep and he was waiting for the prime opportunity to do so and in the middle of moving countries? Not the best time. And so he had staunchly held off Yuuri’s advances as they uprooted their lives and planted themselves firmly in Russian soil, getting a new flat and filling it with their things. Today was the first day where neither of them was exhausted from moving and they had spent the day at the rink, skating and playing around and messing with Yurio, who was frequently texting someone.

And then, after dinner, Yuuri had gotten that look in his eye, the same on from the rink so long ago after the Cup of China, and Viktor had been more than happy to let himself be dragged home, to be pressed against the door with Yuuri’s body tight against him, to be kissed and kiss in return. This feeling was both old and new. It had been brewing for so long that it had, at one point, felt like they were never going to get to this point, and yet, it felt like they had been on the precipice, the peak of everything. Viktor was determined to do whatever it took to keep his promise to Yuuri.

_“I want to take you apart so thoroughly that you forget your own name and put you back together so that my name is the only one you remember.”_

It takes a little maneuvering to get them from the door to the bedroom, fingers pulling at clothes and mouths hesitant to separate, but they manage it, even manage to keep Makkachin from joining them. They’re both half out of their clothes, outerwear strewn across the flat and the rest tossed haphazardly in the room. Viktor doesn’t want to stop, to give them time to second guess themselves, and so he presses forward, kissing and touching before pushing Yuuri down onto the messy bed. 

Yuuri’s skin is so soft, so pale against the dark green comforter, so _receptive_ as Viktor trails his fingers down his ribs, hooking into the last bit of cloth that keeps him from seeing everything. “Is this okay?” he asks, pausing in his exploration and looking down at Yuuri’s red face.

Yuuri nods and, with a look of determination, strips off his boxer briefs himself, completely bare before Viktor’s hungry eyes. 

“So gorgeous,” Viktor murmurs, eyes raking down Yuuri’s form as he sits back. He doesn’t stare for long because he knows that Yuuri is self-conscious about his body (and Viktor knows he has a good deal to do with that, thanks to certain comments he made when they first met) and he knows that if he keeps staring, Yuuri is going to blush and try to hide and Viktor wants nothing more than to be on top of him anyway.

It starts slowly. A teasing kiss. An earlobe gently pulled. His nose trails down Yuuri’s throat, head tipped to the side to give Viktor more space as he breathes in deep. Yuuri’s skin smells cool and crisp and only a little like sweat. His tongue darts out, tasting, as he continues down, nipping at Yuuri’s collarbone. Fingers grasp at his shoulders and Viktor looks up through the curtain of his hair to see Yuuri staring down at him.

“No touching,” he teases, “or I’ll have to tie you down.” Yuuri’s hips buck up at that, his face flushing even redder as Viktor hums thoughtfully. “One might think you like that idea.”

“I- maybe?”

Viktor chuckles, tongue flicking over one of Yuuri’s nipples as his hand comes up to pinch at the other one. He doesn’t say anything, just slowly, so slowly, kisses and nips and sucks at every inch of Yuuri’s skin that he can manage down to his hip bones, covered in a layer of fat that Viktor just happens to love. He no longer cares about Yuuri being too big, has discovered that the slight pudge of his stomach is perfect, that he doesn’t need Yuuri to be the supposed ideal body shape of a figure skater. He loves every perfect part of Yuuri and doesn’t hesitate to whisper endearments into his skin, punctuating the words, murmured in Russian, in Japanese, in English, with kisses and bites that are sure to leave marks.

The hands reach for him again, Yuuri begging, “Please, Vitya, please, I need- I want more.”

Viktor surges up, covering Yuuri’s body with his and hovering over him. He doesn’t remember grabbing Yuuri’s wrists, but his hands are pressing them into the pillows over Yuuri’s head. “Ah, ah, ah, I did warn you,” Viktor says softly. “Am I going to have to punish you?”

Yuuri whimpers and, yeah, maybe that’s hotter than Viktor thought it was going to be. He fumbles at the nightstand and pulls out, ludicrously, the Blue Tie That Shall Not Be Worn. Viktor smirks, thinking that perhaps it has a use after all. The loops around Yuuri’s wrists are tight enough to be restraining, but loose enough that if Yuuri really wanted to, he could get free.

Viktor hopes that he doesn’t.

With Yuuri securely tied to the headboard, Viktor makes his way back down, nuzzling the base of Yuuri’s cock. The hair is neatly trimmed and his cock is full and fat and Viktor wants it in his mouth, like, a year ago. He lets his tongue trail down to the head, swallowing as much of it down as he can as Yuuri yelps and arches in surprise. He sucks, tongue teasing under the head and flicking at the slit. One hand holds him above Yuuri and the other comes up to cup his balls, rolling them between his fingers as his head bobs, Yuuri’s cock dipping into the back of his throat and not stopping. Yuuri’s sharp intake of breath was enough to make Viktor smirk as he buries his nose in the hair at the base. It takes nothing more than him humming before Yuuri lets out a cry and comes down his throat. Still smirking, Viktor slowly pulls back, letting Yuuri’s cock fall from between his lips and making the other man whimper.

“Aw, what’s wrong,” Viktor coos, resting the side of his face on Yuuri’s inner thigh.

“It’s just sensitive,” Yuuri mutters, his chest heaving as he comes down from his orgasm.

“Still able to talk in full sentences, my work here isn’t done.”

It takes some maneuvering, but Yuuri is still orgasm-loose and moves willingly under Viktor’s hands, turning until he’s on his knees, his ass in the air and his hands still above his head. “Look at you,” Viktor whispers, running his hands over Yuuri’s back and cupping his ass. “So beautiful.”

He gets the joy of watching the flush make its way down Yuuri’s shoulders, draping him in red as Viktor heaps praises on him, his hands constantly moving, never ending their mapping of Yuuri’s body. He cups Yuuri’s ass, thumbs spreading the cheeks wide so that he can look at the pink of Yuuri’s hole. It clenches and releases under his hot gaze, but Viktor doesn’t move until Yuuri starts squirming. “Vik-” whatever he was about to say is lost as Viktor licks a long stripe from his perineum to his hole. He gasps, hips pushing back as Viktor holds him as still as possible. His tongue works Yuuri’s hole, teasing, switching from hard licks to gentle kisses, always changing it up to undo Yuuri in the best way possible. He moves down to press a kiss to his perineum as one finger slides through the spit Viktor left behind, gathering on the tip before pressing it inside, just barely. Yuuri shudders beneath him, letting out choked sounds into the pillow his face is resting on.

“Your hole is so loose,” Viktor murmurs. He sinks his teeth into Yuuri’s ass cheek, biting none-too-gently and making Yuuri let out a howl of tortured pleasure. His hole clenches around Viktor’s finger, so tight and hot and Viktor can’t wait to be inside of it. He continues working his finger inside, his tongue licking and sucking the rim around it. Yuuri is positively thrashing, his body red and covered in sweat and quite possibly the most beautiful thing Viktor has ever seen. His finger twists and when he accidentally nudges Yuuri’s prostate, they’re both shocked when Yuuri comes, cock twitching as he comes over the bedspread.  
Viktor pulls his finger out slowly, hand rubbing Yuuri’s ass as he leans over, digging through the drawer for the bottle of lube and a condom. He waits until Yuuri’s breathing has slowed down to only slightly erratic. “Yuuri?”

“Ngh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Ngh.”

Viktor can’t help but smirk; he _had_ warned him. Yuuri doesn’t even move when the bottle cap snaps open. Viktor coats a couple of fingers, rubbing the lube to warm it up before he takes up his position behind Yuuri again. His hole is darker now after Viktor’s treatment and he can’t wait to see what color it will be after he’s through with him. His finger slides in easily, Yuuri’s hole so loose, his fiance so relaxed, that it not a problem to work him open, to press two and then three fingers inside while Yuuri quakes from sensitivity.

“Is this okay?” Viktor asks, once Yuuri is stretched and open around his fingers.

“Ngh.”

“I need a yes or no, my sweet. Do you want me to fuck everything but my name out of you?”

Yuuri whimpers, nodding. “Please, yes, please, Vitya.”

Viktor pulls out, ignoring the disgruntled sound Yuuri makes, and rips open the condom packet, making quick work of sliding it onto his painfully hard cock. To be honest, he isn’t sure how long he can last, and with Yuuri two orgasms ahead of him, it won’t be easy, but Viktor is determined to make good on his promise. He angles Yuuri’s ass, holding his hips as he pushes slowly, so very slowly, inside. Sharp teeth sink into his lower lip as the tightness of Yuuri’s ass engulfs him and he’s not sure who shudders this time; maybe it moved from one of them to the other.

He finally bottoms out, hips pressed to Yuuri’s ass cheeks, forehead pressed against Yuuri’s spine, arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Viktor murmurs, kissing the sweaty skin beneath him. Yuuri’s hole clenches around him reflexively and it makes Viktor pensive. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers directly in Yuuri’s ear. “So perfect around my cock, you take it so well, like you were born for you, I’ve never seen anyone so magnificent as you-”

He continues, because every compliment earns him a shiver, a clench, a sound so beautiful that Viktor would pay money to hear it every day. He slowly begins to fuck Yuuri, fingers brushing Yuuri’s nipples as he loses the words in English and they become a tumble of Russian. Yuuri whimpers on one particular stroke, so Viktor does his best to keep hitting that same spot, hips snapping as he pinches Yuuri’s nipple. His mouth, still spewing Russian sentiments that he doesn’t have to courage to say in English just yet, moves to the other side, teeth scraping the nape of Yuuri’s neck. When this causes a sound that Viktor has never heard before, he moves to the spot where Yuuri’s neck and shoulder come together and bites down, sucking roughly. Yuuri’s ass squeezes so tightly around his dick that it almost hurts as he screams “VIKTOR” at the top of his lungs. His body pulls taut like a strung bow and Viktor bites even harder as he comes, pressed as deep as he can go.

They’re both a fucked out mess at that point, and Viktor barely has the thought process to make sure they flop to the side instead of on the mess of come under Yuuri. Slowly, though it’s honestly as fast as he can move, Viktor releases Yuuri’s hands from the tie, leaving it dangling from the headboard as he turns his attention to the condom. He pulls out carefully from the warmth of Yuuri’s perfect ass, tying off the condom and dropping it in the wastebasket that may or may not have been intentionally placed right next to the bed for convenience sake.

“Viktor,” Yuuri mumbles, pressing back into him. Viktor’s arm comes up, wrapping around Yuuri’s torso as he spoons him. He hums in acknowledgement when Yuuri doesn’t continue.

“My love?”

“Vitya…”

Viktor cranes his neck, but Yuuri’s eyes are closed, his breathing slowing down as he drifts off. _We’ll change the blanket later_ , Viktor thinks, curling closer and burying his face into Yuuri’s hair. His body relaxes as he lets the pull of sleep drag him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear lord, do you know how long it's been since I've written something this filthy??? A long damn time. The things I do for these boys, sigh.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to get this out, both jobs were crazy and I had a downswing, which made it hard to write. Then I was like, how the fuck do you write rimming again?!
> 
> Props to Axelkin (who is not on here yet) for listening to me whine for, like, three straight days before I finished this.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaand there may or may not be a sequel that I'm working on in between helping old people internet. Which is how I wrote this one, so if there are any mistakes, that's all on me.


End file.
